Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 20 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (I)

The bell above the door jingles, signaling another customer's arrival at The Novel Grind. I glance up from where I'm restocking the pastry case and feel a smile tugging at my lips. It's become such a familiar routine these past four months—the steady flow of customers, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of old books, the comfortable chatter filling the cozy space.

I nod in acknowledgment, my hands continuing their task of arranging the muffins and scones just so. This place has become more than just a job to me; it's a sanctuary, a haven where I can breathe easy and simply exist without the weight of expectations bearing down on me.

As I work, my mind wanders to the evening ahead. It's been two weeks since Franklin and his wife, Emily, last had me over for dinner. I'm looking forward to the home-cooked meal and easy conversation, a stark contrast to the strained silences and disapproving glances that used to fill my family dinners back home.

A pang of guilt tugs at my heart, but I quickly push it away. This is my life now, the life I've chosen, and I won't let the ghosts of the past haunt me anymore.

"Here you go, dear," Mrs. Elkins says, placing a steaming cup of coffee on the counter in front of me. "Don't forget, you've got that class this afternoon."

I nod, gratefully accepting the mug and taking a sip of the rich, robust brew. The summer course I've signed up for—Introduction to Literature—is a small step, but it's a step in the right direction. With my limited savings, I can only afford one class this summer semester, but I'm determined to make the most of it.

As the morning rush begins to taper off, I take a moment to simply breathe and appreciate the quiet moments in between. This is my life now, a life of my own making, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel a sense of peace settling over me.

I glance up from shelving a stack of paperbacks, my gaze instinctively drawn to the two men seated at one of the corner tables. Their murmured conversation drifts through the quiet hum of the café, and a chill races down my spine as I catch the unmistakable scent of shifters.

how I

but I force myself to maintain an air of nonchalance, casually sliding books into their designated spots as I strain to eavesdrop. Snippets

into his coffee cup. "Dragging

in my grasp. Westwood... that's Lucas. The name ignites a flicker of memory, one I swiftly smother before it can fully take shape. That part of my life

fathom why our alpha is so hellbent on finding that Blackwood girl," the other man

into a crouch, my heart thundering in my ears as I hastily gather the scattered pages. That Blackwood girl—they can't be talking about me, can they? But a sickening realization settles in the pit of my stomach. Of course

here, anonymous and unassuming, just another face in the crowd. Straightening, I flash a tight smile at

* * *

to me ever

is a sea of bodies, students rushing to their next class or spilling out into the sunshine, but I barely

stifle the startled scream that tears from my throat. My textbook thuds as it hits the ground. I whirl around to face my attacker, my heart pounding a

concern, cuts through the haze of panic clouding my mind. "I

me, and I feel the tension bleed from my body as I take in his unassuming appearance—a slightly rumpled

He's human.